cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
“Catholic is the same as Christian, right mom?” I stopped spreading peanut butter on the bread for the girls’ sandwiches and looked up at Libby. “That’s an interesting question. What exactly are you asking?” I could have said a simple “yes” and let it go, but I wanted to know what was behind the question.
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In the 1960s charm bracelets were a trend, and teenage Mom had one full of charms. During a Thursday morning visit in December, she brought out a small silk pouch and handed it to me. She was in the dividing-up-her-jewelry stage of dying and wanted me to have her bracelet of stories, a reminder of…
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Several years ago I was inspired to write a short poem based on 1 Corinthians 13:13, which states that faith, hope, and love are the three most important virtues. I’ve always preferred short poems over epic poetry because a.) I’m a slow reader, and b.) I have a short attention span. But, give me a…
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Complex grief is the terminology I’d use to describe my 2023. That year I was in a bad car accident, my ovarian cysts caused me to bleed for three months, my mother was diagnosed with stage four cancer and passed away within six months, I was sexually assaulted at a spa, my two-year relationship ended,…
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Dormancy All winter long, we surveyed our brittle yard from towering windows, biting our nails, looking at one another furtively. Bald spots like patchy beard growth dotted the hills. “What is happening?” we wondered aloud. We hoped, we prayed for germination. Under the lodgepole and ponderosa pines, where my husband on his knees scraped the…
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I’ve learned to anticipate it as a spiritual director. It’s often one of the first comments a new client shares with me, sometimes hesitantly, holding a bit of shame as her voice lowers almost to a whisper. As if what she is about to say mustn’t be overheard, lest God strike her down right then…
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I don’t entertain New Year’s resolutions. It’s sort of a combination between my own refusal to think through a year’s worth of commitment and a divinely altruistic motive, knowing that I cannot possibly know the mind of God and what’s in store for me, having given up on my own agenda long ago. Thus, I…
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Getting into gardening these past five years has taught me more about being a human on this earth than most things. My garden offers me a glimpse into the tiniest thrummings of life that crawl among the soil, the way it so delicately and yet boldly holds life and death, and its need for seasons…
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“A turtle got it,” my dad said to me as I looked with utter devastation at the claw marks on my prized watermelon. I was eight years old and had waited months for my favorite fruit to be ready. Days before I got to cut it open, our neighborhood turtles decided to make it their…
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*The following post contains elements about eating behaviors that could feel triggering. I have been walking around hungry most of my life. Food was just inches away, yet it did not feel like it was accessible. Not to me. This is true because there was so much more that I wanted. I didn’t just want…
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